


A Gentle Reminder

by FollyOfWinchester



Series: Nothing Good Will Come [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Deleted Scenes, Episode: s06e06 You Can't Handle The Truth, Extended Scene, Guilty Castiel, Headcanon, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, Missing Scene, Pining, Season/Series 06 Spoilers, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1292737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FollyOfWinchester/pseuds/FollyOfWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel attempts to discover the answer to an important question. Set during s06e06 You Can't Handle the Truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gentle Reminder

As Castiel took flight after visiting Dean about the supposed horn of truth, he could not hold back the waves of guilt and self-loathing that welled up inside him. Everything was slipping out of his control. He was feeling less and less free with each new choice he made, more and more trapped by his hubris with each prayer from Dean about Sam’s all too obvious lack of a soul. Why had he not brought Sam’s missing soul to Dean’s attention? Why had he not consulted Dean before initiating a partnership with Crowley? He wanted to believe his intentions had been pure, that he was keeping Dean’s wellbeing at the top of his priorities, but it was becoming more and more difficult to rationalize the situation in that way. Truthfully, he was afraid. He was afraid that Dean was lost to him, afraid to have that loss confirmed by Dean’s own words, afraid that Dean would not accept his explanations about Sam and Crowley and...everything, and finally afraid that Dean’s prayers that night in Lisa’s garage were nothing more than a moment of weakness on Dean’s part. Dean had not prayed to him like that since, nor had he indulged himself in observing Dean in such a state after that night. Had Dean...missed their physical intimacy, or had Lisa taken up that space in his mind? Had he come to see Castiel as just another hunting tool only to be called upon in times of need? He wanted to know, but at the same time, he could not bring himself to ask. 

But then, perhaps questions and words and explanations were not what this situation called for. Perhaps this situation called for more...strategic measures. Castiel flew back to Dean’s hotel room.

~*~

Dean takes another swig of whisky and stares uselessly at the spot where Cas had just been standing. _Goddamnit, why am I acting like this? He finally starts hanging around again and all I can do is fucking tell him off. I know he’s got a lot of crap on his plate...but he could at least fly in once in a while for something other than calls about his angel pals’ lost toybox. Somebody up there’s gotta know something about Sam. If it isn’t Lucifer or a demon riding around in that gigantor body, then what in the hell is it?_

Cas reappears and starts to stride toward him with a resolute look on his face.

 _Huh, back already. What’s he got?_ “Geez, that was like five seconds. You already got news on Sam’s—”

He blinks and his mouth is suddenly occupied. As Cas’s stubble brushes against his lips, the sensation dredges up every half remembered feeling and desire he’s been trying to forget all these months. A familiar grip on his shoulders pulls him deeper into the kiss and he enthusiastically reciprocates, wrapping his hands around Cas’s back and groaning out a curse. _Hell fucking yes!_ For an instant, everything falls away and they’re just Dean and Cas again, just a hunter and his angel, but the euphoria is pretty short lived. Because they aren’t just Dean and Cas. They’re Dean and Cas and Lisa and Ben and Sam’s fucked up clone and a civil war in Heaven and everything else. _What is he thinking? What am I doing? What are we doing? What IS “we” anymore? Shit._ Dean breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against Cas’s long enough to breath out, “I can’t.” His hands slide down the fabric of Cas’s trench coat into clenched fists at his sides. He hangs his head against Cas’s shoulder. “I can’t do this right now.”

Cas, for his part, seems relatively unfazed. He just deadpans, “I understand,” and takes a few steps backward. Dean lifts his eyes from the floor and meets Cas’s gaze. He takes a breath and lets his mouth fall open, but he can’t think of anything to say so he just shuts it again. _We both know the stakes here. Plenty of other crap to be worrying about._

Cas’s face softens. “I...wish I were still slightly human. Everything was much easier when that was the case. Everything made more sense.”

Dean nods and smirks. “Never expected to be wishing for a replay of the apocalypse, but...”

Cas disappears and Dean heaves out a sigh. _That stupid, feathery...fucking irresistible bastard._ He grabs for the whisky bottle, but suddenly feels breath at the back of his neck. He turns his head and his lips are centimeters away from Cas’s own behind him. “Wha—”

“Dean, I can’t come every time you pray, but know that I’ve heard every one of your prayers since you put Lucifer back in the cage. Every. Single. One.” Cas leans in even closer to Dean’s face and rests a hand on his shoulder, just about where his handprint used to be. He practically whispers into Dean’s ear, “I promise, if you pray to me from the back seat of your Impala again, I’ll make every effort to arrive promptly.” With that, he disappears again, leaving a thoroughly aroused hunter in his wake.

 _Again? That was...he was...HOLY SHIT!_ Dean pours himself another whisky and downs it in one big gulp.

~*~


End file.
